


Blue // Joshler

by spaceimpala



Category: Gay - Fandom, Twenty One Pilots, Tyler Joseph - Fandom, josh dun - Fandom, joshler - Fandom
Genre: Character Death, Gay, M/M, Mental Illness, Schizophrenia, Synesthesia, bxb - Freeform, imaginary, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:21:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceimpala/pseuds/spaceimpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You do know Josh isn't real, right?"<br/>After being clinically diagnosed with stage Four schizophrenia, 17 year old Tyler Joseph starts to become isolated inside his own head. With the heavy influence of the Josh, Tyler rejects his medications and finds peace in talking to the imaginative character he's created.</p><p>*inspired by the forest fic, only by the disorders Tyler has*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

_syn·es·the·sia ˌ_

_sinəsˈTHēZHə_

_noun ; the production of a sense impression relating to one sense or part of the body by stimulation of another sense or part of the body._

—

Everything was gray before I met Josh.

It was almost sort of like the feeling of sadness, a pang of guilt and the color of dark blue all tied into one. The way Josh would describe it was a blue-black feel. Depression as he called it.

Whatever it was I hated it. Every second of feeling it.

But then I met Josh. That's when everything was feeling all red-purple again.

"I think you're thinking more of a purple-green."

I look over at Josh, whom is sitting beside me,

"I think you're right. Purple-Green sounds better." Josh smiled, his bright blue mess of a hair standing out against those mocha brown eyes of his.

"Tyler, who are you talking to?"

"I'm talking to Josh."

"Tyler, nothing is there."


	2. therapy

_the ghost of you, is close to me._  
_I'm inside out, you're underneath._  
_don't let me be gone._

"..And how does that make you feel, Tyler?"

"Desolate. Empty. It almost feels like the chalky taste of gray." Dr. Greenfeld, Tyler's therapist, then jotted something down on that clean, professional looking notepad of his.

"Have you talked to Josh at all, as of late?"

Tyler took a second to think, then looked up at him, "Does it ever bother you, that someone else, living right now, has your name? I mean, once someone else takes possession of something like that, it takes away from its originality, right? It was yours. But then it becomes more popular, less special, less-"

"Tyler."

"Right. Sorry." He quietly apologized, worrying his bottom lip.

_"Don't tell him anything. He'll just prescribe more fucking crazy pills that you don't need."_

"Tyler, what are you looking at?" Greenfeld asked, motioning towards the empty chair next to Tyler.

Tyler just shook his head, "I haven't talked to him."

"Any other figments you've talked to?"

The way he had said figments, pushed Tyler's buttons. It made it sound like he was crazy. 

" _No_." He said through gritted teeth, "I'm not crazy."

"Well, sure you're not, Tyler." He responded ever so nonchalantly, not looking up as he wrote down one more thing on his notepad before tucking it away.

He leaned in closer to Tyler, "We just believe you're very sick." 

  
—

Sick.

Tyler rolled his eyes at that concept.

I'm not _fucking_ sick.

"Well, according to Dr. Know-it-all, you are." Josh rolled his eyes, he didn't the psychiatric. He hated how they'd talk to me and what they'd tell me. 

I just sighed, picking at the loose seam in my jeans just to pick at something.

This whole situation just made me feel a little black-green.

"I just don't know, Josh. I mean, what _if_ they're right? What if I am completely crazy and you're not real and-"

Josh suddenly grabbed at my wrists, a little bit too harsh,  
"Look at me, Tyler. The only thing that's crazy here is the way that you're speaking." He seriously spoke, a mint green and dark red aura surrounding him.  
"I'm as real as the come. Don't let that fucking Greenfeld brainwash you into thinking otherwise."

I just nodded, avoiding Josh's gaze. "Okay."  
"Okay." His mocha brown eyes softened, and he loosened the grip on my wrists, but kept his hands there.

"I just can't afford to lose you." He said almost so quietly I couldn't hear him.

  
"What does that even mean?"

  
"It means, I uh," Josh paused for a few seconds, avoiding eye contact. Obviously a bit nervous as he leaned closer to me,  
But just as I go to open my mouth to say something, I hear a light knock on my door before it opens.

"Tyler, have you taken your meds? Mom's asking." My younger sister Madison leaned against my door frame, looking at me as I sat blankly on the floor.

Josh pulled away from me and released my wrists, "If you say no, they'll make you take them."

I cleared my throat and looked up at her, "Uh- I- Yeah. I took them earlier."

"The bottle isn't even opened yet." Tyler bit his lip and looked away, trying to look to Josh for something to say but he was gone.

"There was another bottle that still had a few."

"Whatever you say, Ty." She left without another word, and I got up to close the door.

"Josh?"

Gone.


	3. synesthesia

  
_syn·es·the·sia_  
_ˌsinəsˈTHēZHə/_  
_noun_  
_the production of a sense impression relating to one sense or part of the body by stimulation of another sense or part of the body._

–

"I just can't afford to lose you."

Tyler scoffed.

What did that even _mean_?  
He couldn't afford to lose him?

Obviously wasn't anything important, since Josh just up and left him over an hour ago, ever since Tyler's sister came in.

Tyler just took a deep breath, grabbing his hoodie and opening up his window. His bedroom walls had become too suffocating for him to be in there any longer.

It was muggy and lightly raining, but that didn't bother him in the slightest; being the pluviophile he was, the Seattle climate for him was perfect.

He just needed anything to get his mind off of Josh.  
Which was hard to do, since he was the only person he really talked to and was involved with.

It was weird how he felt around Josh, it was like a peach-emerald-turquoise feeling. It was like whenever Josh would look at Tyler with those coffee brown eyes and that perfect white smile of his, it made butterflies well up in his stomach.

No.

Tyler shook his head,  
_I don't like Josh like that._  
_I don't like guys._  
But as he thought about it, he didn't have an interest in girls either.

Tyler never put much thought into relationships, since he never really had any friends and doubted he could keep a stable relationship with his schizophrenia, since everybody thought he was crazy. But it didn't bother him much, he was never really interested in the dating life anyways.

Whatever he felt for Josh was weird, and made him feel bubbly and nerdy around him.

"I think they typically call those people _hopeless romantics_ , if that's what you're going for."

And of course when he turned at the familiar voice, it was none other than the blue cotton candy-haired character, Josh.  
There are the butterflies again.

He cleared his throat,  
"I'm not " _going for_ " anything."

Josh chuckled, "Someone's irate."

"You just up and fucking left me. Trying to tell me something, trying to confuse me? Kiss me as some sort of sick joke?" He scoffed.

Josh's eyes suddenly dimmed, and got gentle, like a soft gray. His aura became a baby blue and ruby red.

"Josh-" He started, taking a few steps closer to Tyler.

Tyler turned away.

"Just. Don't leave me like that again. It scares me."  
_Just like a black-blue_.

"Okay, Tyler."

—

Although quiet, the tenseness between Josh and Tyler was loud.

None of them knew what to talk about.

Tyler just sat with his back against the wet wood of the tree branch.

"Up here.. It makes me feel sorta.."

"Blue-Orange?"

"Yeah, but not quite orange. More of a.." Tyler paused, he could feel the words on the tip of his tongue.

Josh smiled, "Tangerine?"

Tyler nodded, "Yeah."

_; the feeling of calmness_

"Is that all you feel?"

 _a tinge of pink and red with some yellow_.

attraction.  
passion.  
_love_.  
"Yeah, not really anything else."

"You sure about that?"

Tyler just fumbled with his pocket knife, making little scratches here and there on the tree.

"Tyler-"

"I-I uh- we gotta get back home, Josh. They're gonna start wondering where I am and you know what happened last time."

Tyler avoided Josh's gaze, hopping down from the tree and putting his pocket knife back.

Josh stayed, watching Tyler leave.

"Please stay."

Tyler looked back up at him, "I _know_ you feel what I feel, Tyler."

He shook his head, denying it. "I need to get home."

Josh could feel a pang of sadness hit him, maybe he was wrong about what he felt for Tyler.

_maybe he just wanted something to fill the blue-black feeling._


	4. illusions

_I will fear the night again,  
I hope I'm not my only friend._

_; truce_

_—_

_Pink.  
Red.  
A tint of orange.  
No.  
Yes._  
Tyler couldn't shake the feeling of it.   
And even though Josh told him not to, he couldn't help but to think of the possibility of everyone being right and Josh being just a figment of his imagination.  
But he had to of been real.. Right?  
What he _felt_ ,  
What he _experienced_ ,   
They had to be real.  
The thought of it all being fake though, petrified him.

"So, how has your day been, Tyler? I'm glad you're sitting with us at dinner again!"

Tyler looked up from the table and looked at his sister, with that chirpy voice of hers.

_Sort of a purple-green feel. Almost like the taste of metal and magenta. It felt like the way you run your hand over drywall._

But Tyler knew better to keep his mouth shut.

"Good," He simply answered with a small smile he falsely plastered on his face, "Yourself?"

"It was great! Today, at school, we.." Madison went on to ramble about her day, and Tyler's attention span wasn't long enough to pay any mind.

All he could think about was Josh.

The way Josh set his hands on Tyler's wrists, and how close they were together in Tyler's room.

_I know you feel what I feel, Tyler._

Josh felt the pale pink, purple, and the tint of orange Tyler felt.  
He felt every single butterfly in his stomach.

—

The night only brought coldness and shades of blue.   
Tyler still couldn't stop thinking about Josh, but that was normal.   
All he did was lay on his bed, the feeling of silk draped across the sheets.  
Taking a drag from his vape, the smoke was seen as a pale purple-blue.

"You shouldn't smoke that, Tyler,"  
The boy with coffee eyes had returned.

"They're terrible for you and your mother would absolutely _kill_ you if you were caught."

Tyler scoffed,  
"Oh, _Please_. You used to use cigarettes, which contained _rat poison_. Plus, this vape doesn't even contain nicotine. Just juice."

Josh then laughed, shaking head head like it was some grand joke, " _Very_ aesthetic of you, Tyler."

He rolled his eyes, shrugging, and taking another drag, "It still relieves some of the blue-black feel, I guess."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess."

He rolled his eyes in a annoyed manner, looking away from Josh and focusing more on the smoke.

"You told me you'd quit,"

"What?"

"That whole up and disappearing shit you've been doing to me." He said like it was the most obvious thing.

"Then stop taking the _fucking_ meds. That's what makes me gone."

"Okay, I'll stop." Tyler says in the most soft, innocent voice. He sounded like a child that had done something unknowingly wrong.

Josh's gaze softened and he sat crisscross on the bed from Tyler, whom got up and faced him, sitting the same way.

"I just feel black-blue whenever you leave.." He trails off, in a soft tone.

Josh leaned forward and rested his forehead against Tyler's lightly.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, closing his eyes, and Tyler did the same.

"I really hope you're real, Josh."

"I am. Trust me." He securely locked his fingers with Tyler's,

"I hope I'm not my only friend."

— 


	5. anxiety

_Am I the only one I know?_

—

"Last session we talked feelings and colors," Greenfeld started, looking at Tyler, "Though," - He sighed - "It seems that _is_ all we seem to ever talk about."

"It's all that ever comes to mind." Tyler shrugs, not knowing what else to tell him.

"Do you want to talk about your family? Friends? Boyfriend?"

"I'm not gay." He defensively reacted, scrunching up his nose.

Josh snorted.  
When Tyler noticed him, he quickly silenced himself and looked away whistling nonchalantly.

Greenfeld looked Tyler up and down in a calm mannerism, "Your mother told me you ate with them at dinner last night."

He just looked at him.

" _That's_ progress!"

"Josh dyed his hair again." Tyler blurted, instantly regretting he ever said anything about him.

_the red-yellow feeling._

Greenfeld leaned back in that cozy leather chair of his, clicking a pen.

"Tyler, we've been over this–"

"It's funny," Tyler breathed a laugh, shaking his head, "I keep telling him that if he keeps dying his hair it's all gonna fall out one day mid-dye."

Josh smiled in admiration at Tyler, gazing at him with those toffee-brown eyes.

The psych just nodded, "What color did he do this time?"

"Blue." He said confidently. "But like a cotton candy sort of blue, you know? Or a _light-sky_ blue."

"Last time it was a pastel pink, which really made his brown eyes stand out."

Greenfeld listened and observed Tyler for a few silent moments before sighing and writing down a couple more things.

Whenever he wrote something, Tyler felt a slight pang of anxiety in his stomach.  
The neon cherry color mixed with a seaweed green made him fear that he would get thrown into a asylum eventually, with all the crazies rocking back and fourth in a corner.

He didn't want to become like them.

"Okay, Tyler. I'm going to give you a new dosage of medication and I want you to take it as often as it says and not a second later."

"But I already take two types of-"

"Yes, but it appears that none of them seem to be working. I'll run it by your parents to get the permission and I expect you to take it and get better."

—

I didn't want to get _"better"_.

That was the thing; Especially if getting better meant that I wouldn't be able to see Josh again.  
I'd be all alone, he was my only friend and being away from him for a short period of time was painful enough.

After the session with the psych, I overheard him tell mom that shock therapy might be better than pills.

"Mrs., Tyler doesn't seem to be making any progress with his illness with the prescriptions."

She was on the verge of tears, "What _will_ work then, Doctor?"

"If this continues and it comes down to it, then we do suggest injections or shock therapy, since those both have been proven to work more often than not."

She covered her mouth, shaking her head as tears crashed down like weights.

I felt a heave of panic and fear overwhelm me, a black-green feeling.

I laid out on a stair, in the middle of a big, empty staircase – Josh sat a couple stairs up from me.

"You're scared." He mused quietly.

I laughed bitterly, "Try _terrified_."

He nodded slowly, "The blue-black feeling?"

"The blue-black feeling." I agreed with a sigh.

"You wouldn't.." I started softly, "You wouldn't let them shock me, right?"

But Josh said nothing.

—

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading. please tell me if I should continue or not. ❤️


End file.
